I saw him out of the corner of my eye, his gait a saunter as I snapped a picture of my boys on our city adventure.
But he stopped, did a double take, and walked back toward me, garnering my full attention. His skin was aged and tanned like leather, his front teeth missing, his eyes shaded by crooked sunglasses. But it was his voice that stood out to me — low and raspy, like Tom Waits.
He rested an elbow on his crossed arm and tapped his lips with a finger before asking, “Can I tell you the five things I like about you?”
My head tilted to the side, caught off guard by the unexpected question. I glanced over at my boys climbing through an art structure with their buddies, blissfully unaware of the man speaking to me.
“Sure,” I said, my curiosity piqued.
“First,” continuing to tap his lips, “I like the way you have your hair pulled up, and,” he pointed his finger at my ear, swirling the air, “your hoop earrings. I like the way they dangle.”
He paused and pointed a bit lower. “And your collar bone. I like the shape of your collar bone.” My stomach clinched, hoping his assessment was not going to go point for point down my body.
But he surprised me with a quirk of his lips. “Your toes,” he said, pointing toward my flips flops. “I like the color of your toes and the way you cuffed your jeans. Rolled up is nice.”
That was it. That was five.
“Thank you,” I said.
He nodded and continued on his way, the grin stretched across my face the only evidence of the encounter.
It was simple. It was painless. It was unexpected.
So I ask, when was the last time you told someone
five things you like about them?